


Through the Valley

by whirlmart



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alchemy, Blood and Gore, Gen, Gore, Minecraft, Possession, Realism, The Nether, The Wither - Freeform, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Weaponry, Wolves, basically oliver makes an au with his friends in it, maybe two relationships, minecraft au, no beta we die like men, some Easter eggs of people from the MC server
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whirlmart/pseuds/whirlmart
Summary: I walk through the valley, of the shadow of death.And I fear no evil, ‘cause I’m blind to it all.•After a traveller learns of a realm that no soul has touched, he finds that the hunger for adventure cuts harder than any blade could. However, every good story has a catch, and this traveller ends up getting more than he ever bargained for.
Relationships: Oliver & Phosphoron (Minecraft), Oliver & Soop (Minecraft), Oliver & Strixfire (Minecraft), Phosphoron & Strixfire (Minecraft), Soop & Phosphoron (Minecraft), Strixfire & Soop (Minecraft)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 13





	1. Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> sup games it’s ya boy oliver  
> basically i made a minecraft fanfic for my friends  
> there is no god  
> what am i doing

The groans of sauntering and starving zombies rang through the old and rotten mineshaft, followed by the frantic and erratic footsteps of a fleeing adventurer, heavy panting following the sounds that erupted in the antique tunnel.

“Come on, Soop!” The adventurer called over his shoulder, his voice wavering with the visible sound of uncertainty, intertwined with a chilling fear. “I can’t hold them back for long!”

The wolf in question skid around the mineshaft’s corner, her claws scraping against the wood as she bolted away from the horde of zombies. Her bright blue eyes that reminded the adventurer of the ocean on the night of the full moon landed on his figure, her eyes narrowing with fiery determination as she sprinted. The light gust of wind flourished through her fur, the large wolf’s ears flattening against her head.

A familiar rattle of old and rickety bones chimed through the tunnel, and the panicked adventurer changed his footing swiftly, expecting the whistle of the arrow to travel through the passageway.

Expecting the arrow to pierce his flesh as he ran, he realized that the bolt of pain never came.

Instead, the shrill of an injured animal travelled through his ears, piercing his soul harder than a arrow could. The adventurer was certain that the sound would forever be ingrained in his nightmares.

Blood pumped in his ears as the hilt of his iron sword almost slipped out of his calloused hand, and despite his mind screaming at him to run, to leave his wolf behind, he fought against his fears. If there was one thing that he was, it was stubborn.

“Soop, c’mon girl, you’ve got this, we need to keep moving,” the adventurer whispered sweet nothings in to the wolf’s ear, his hand brushing against her thick coat of grey fur as the putrid scent of decaying flesh drew ever closer.

The wolf was as determined as he; using the adventurer’s assistance to help herself to her paws, the arrow sunken deep in her shoulder, watery blood trickling down the grey fur and painting it red.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the dreaded hissing of infuriated cave spiders piped up over the horde of groaning. Panic flared brighter in the adventurer’s green eyes, and his words sped up, sometimes stumbling over one another.

“Soop, we don’t have much time, I’m not going to leave you here, please, you _need_ to keep moving,” he urged, but Soop was finding it harder and harder to move with every paw-step, if her whimpers of pain were anything to go by.

A zombie crept up behind the adventurer, but the cunning man was quick. He felt the zombie hold his iron sword in a death grip, spilling its gruesome flesh and blood against the once-shiny blade.

“‘Go to the mineshaft’, they said, ‘it’ll be fun’, they said!” He muttered under his breath. Soop still had enough fight in her to sink her razor sharp fangs in to the zombie’s ankle, pulling back and forth until the decaying flesh ripped as easily as paper.

The undead being collapsed to the rotten ground, but the fight was far from over. One after another the bodies began to collapse, but the adventurer was growing tired. Blood stained his shiny iron armour as he impaled the wretched zombie.

Taking a moment to breathe, it seemed like that moment was enough for another one of the tattered and slimy creatures to grab him from behind in a chokehold, it’s rotten breath and decaying teeth nearing his throat as he struggled to fight back.

“Need some help down there?”

The venturesome character looked up at the known voice, his eyes softening slightly as his eyes met his best friend’s lavender ones.

Thick and grimy blood splashed on the venturesome man’s face, his face then morphing in to one of disgust, while the zombie dropped double-dead on the ground. A golden arrow was straight through the zombie’s skull.

“What took you so long?” The traveller cracked a smirk, his voice breathy.

“How many times do I have to drop in to save you? This is the _fifth time,_ Oliver. Fifth time!” The mythical being rolled her eyes, her blue and skinny tail curling at the end. It reminded him of the demons from the stories he heard when he was a young boy in the village; though he knew those were just tales.

“Was that a pun? ‘Drop in’?” Oliver sheathed his sword, lifting his wolf. The arrow was still in her shoulder, but they didn’t have enough time to remove it yet. They had to get clear from this hellspawn.

“Mayhaps,” The mythical being murmured, pulling back her bow and striking the opposing skeleton through the skull. Oliver didn’t know how she was so precise with the weapon; must be some sort of demon power or something.

“Strix, I’m going to need you to cover me. I have to get Soop out of here.” Oliver pressed a kiss to the top of the wolf’s head, worry bubbling in his chest. Strix nodded, her eyes softening at the injured animal. She was as connected as he was to the poor wolf.

The venturesome man ran as a fast as he could with a wolf in his arms, the bright bloom of sunlight glaring in his green eyes. The sound of arrows meeting flesh was not too far behind him, as well as bodies thumping to the tunnel ground.

The two bolted in to the bright light, Strix hanging back to shoot at the mobs more. “Strix, hurry-“ he cut himself off, tilting his head at the strangest sight.

An Enderman, which was rare in itself, carrying a dark red brick in its lanky arms. He could’ve sworn he’d seen that before, somewhere in the village. If only he could remember where-

His thought process was rudely interrupted by a world of pain, two arrows imbedding themselves in his body. One sharp arrow sank in his upper back, the other in his left shoulder.

The man tumbled to the ground. His face made its reunion with the grass, a groan of pain emitting from the traveller’s mouth. Soop was splayed out next to him.

Strix narrowed her eyes at the sight, concern flaring up in her lavender orbs. When she tried to get to the two, she was stopped by the mobs clawing and firing at her.

_Is this how the story would end?_ The traveller mused. _Arrows in my body, catching a glimpse of an unknown object in the grasp of an Enderman?_

He hummed thoughtfully to himself, as his eyelids began to get heavier and heavier..

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_Footsteps? Let me rest._

_Thump._

_**CRASH!** _

A bottle of glass shattered on to the ground next to him, and he felt his strength return as the liquid and little shards of glass splashed on to him. Using this time to wrench the arrows out of his body, he winced at the feeling of the blades leaving his body.

“Berry said you probably needed some help down here.” The woman stated matter-of-factly. “He wasn’t wrong, though I am disappointed that Strix got here before me.”

The huntress with glowing blue eyes knelt down and held her hand out for Oliver to grab. He took her hand, leaning on her with half of his weight. The potion numbed some of the pain, but it didn’t numb all of it.

“Y-You’re right on time, Phos,” Oliver cracked a small grin, before it vanished when he realized that his wolf was still injured. Pushing away from Phos gently, the adventurer bent down and brushed his hand across her grey pelt.

“This is gonna hurt like Hell, girl,” he whispered, before grasping the arrow and pulling upwards. Soop yowled, her paws scrabbling to grip the ground, but ending up falling short.

It took a minute to remove the arrow; Oliver hadn’t noticed how deeply imbedded in her flesh the arrow was. “Good girl, Soop, you did it,” he exclaimed, looking back to see that the horde was defeated, and the remaining mobs were unable to see the sunlight without harming themselves.

Phos pulled out another bright pink potion from her satchel, the liquid inside bubbling slightly. She poured the medicine in to the wolf’s wound, Soop shrieking and thrashing at the initial burning feeling, before the pain subsided and began to soothe the animal. The wound sealed itself; all that was left was a scar that would soon be covered by the grey wolf’s thick fur.

“That.. was my last potion,” Phos told the adventurer sheepishly. Oliver fixed her with a pained and incredulous look.

“You gave the dog the potion b-before me?” He was disappointed, but not surprised.

“If Soop died, it would kill you. You got shot twice, Oliver, you’ll be fine.” She sighed, but there was humour in her tone. Despite the adventurer being quite ticked off at that moment, a glimmer of humour shone in his eyes as well.

“Whatever, you’ll be carrying me back home.” He flopped in to the woman’s arms, expecting to be dropped, but Phos decided to be merciful today.

“Eat this, nerd!” A bright red apple slapped against the back of his head, startling Oliver. He rolled his green eyes and picked the apple up, balancing his red panda beanie on his head.

“I swear to God, you two are going to kill me and then steal my dog.” The man huffed, picking up the apple and wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“Dude, when did you get future-sight?” Strix snickered, sharing a giggle with her sibling, Phos.

The journey home was relatively quiet, besides a few quips and playful arguments shared between the three.

But Oliver couldn’t get the sight of the Enderman out of his head. 

And if Phos or Strix were to ask what was bothering him, he would shrug and say that he was just tired.


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the hurt is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy  
> angst B)

Coming home was bittersweet for Oliver.

On one hand, this village was his home base, the place where he could settle and be safe from the threats of the outside world. It was wonderful here.

On the other hand, he knew that he wasn’t a worthy hero for this town. How could he be a worthy hero, when he couldn’t even defend himself and his dog from a goddamn _skeleton?_

As per usual, a welcoming party came to the gates. Some townsfolk, some children Oliver had told his harrowing tales to, and some of his inner-circle. Specifically, Berry.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” The woman nodded at Phos and Strix in greeting, and was nodded back at in turn. “Come back with new scars, Oliver?”

Oliver smirked, rolling his green eyes. He didn’t show just how much that stung. “You didn’t think I could handle myself? Come _on_ , I thought you thought higher of me!” He exclaimed.

“Was I wrong? You come back with what, two wounds and a billion bruises? One day, Phos and Strix are going to be hauling back a body.” Berry grumbled, and each word felt like a slash to the man’s soul.

“Whatever.” Oliver muttered, leaning on Phos and Strix once more, whilst Soop was herded by Berry to get fixed up. The woman was an animal expert, he’d give her that.

“She’s got a point, Oliver, you’re going to get yourself in to real trouble some day.” Phosphoron started, and Oliver internally groaned. It reminded him of when his teacher lectured him when he was too focused on the forest outside of the window.

_It also reminded him about how on that very day, he packed his bags, his wooden sword, and never looked back. At that moment, it seemed very tempting to do the same thing he had done all those years ago._

_However, he knew that he couldn’t, no matter how much that little voice in his head urged him to. A true hero would never leave their home defenceless._

“Oliver?” Strix’s slightly concerned voice broke him out of his thoughts, and the man realized that, oh shit, responding still existed, and he had yet to respond to Phos.

“I always manage to stay alive somehow. I’m what some people call immortal,” The adventurer jested, trying to focus on anything but the growing pain in his still very real arrow wounds.

“More like an idiot,” Strix ribbed, jabbing the man in his side before she remembered that her friend was wounded. Oliver sucked in a breath at the world of pain, and glared at Strix.

“Who’s the idiot now?” Phos quipped, shoving her sister and laughing at the cry of protest that erupted from the young woman, Strix falling on to a stranger.

The stranger dropped his book upon impact, and Strix was immediately apologetic, going on about how she was so sorry and told the stranger the whole story about how they got here, but the stranger simply grit his teeth, and uttered, “Damn fools, can’t even fucking walk straight,”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed at that, but he didn’t say anything. This person wasn’t worth their time, so he wouldn’t give him his. The stranger stomped away, fuming. Oliver could’ve sworn he felt a weight on his chest, like a momentary pressure of fear.

However, Oliver noticed the book on the ground. He reached down to grab it, opening his mouth to call for the angered stranger to tell him he had dropped his book, but when he looked at the cover, one symbol on the strange item caught his attention.

That block; the same block he saw on the Enderman. It was sketched on the front page, with the words _“Nether’s Journal”_ at the top in gold. The book was heavy, but not because of the pages.

Was the cover.. made out of _obsidian?_

“What’cha got there?” Strix came up behind him, almost making him drop the book. Oliver took a split second to think, before answering swiftly.

“Nothing!” He slipped the obsidian book in to his satchel. The adventurer briefly wondered if he would ever see the stranger again.

“Right, that’s not suspicious at all,” Phos watched her best friend with a keen eye, examining him. Oliver always found it a little bit unnerving; you never knew when she was looking at you because she had no pupils.

“You should probably go check on Soop. I still need to get myself patched up,” The adventurer changed the subject smoothly, ignoring the concerned glances from the two. He could handle himself.

It was just some dumb book, anyways. They didn’t need to worry about it.

“Okay.. but if you need anything, don’t be afraid to call us. We’re here for ya, nerd,” Strix offered a smile, which Oliver returned with a forced one.

“See you around.” Phos waved, and then the two disappeared in to the sea of villagers. The adventurer let out a small exhale, the book feeling heavy in his satchel.

When Oliver looks up, he sees the shades of blue and white of the clouds merge together like a watercolour painting. He sees the birds overhead in dancing silhouettes that reminded him of a puppet show. Sometimes, he forgets that he is real, that he is alive and breathing.

It feels like he’s suffocating in this village.

_“Run boy, but you’ll never be able to run forever!” The man laughed maniacally, swinging his axe towards the young kid._

_The young boy wondered how everything went wrong in a single second, how everything fell apart._

_He swung his wooden sword up to block the attack, and thrust his sword forward in a desperate attempt to save himself, his hand pressing against his side wound as thick gushes of crimson stained his torn orange sweater._

_The young boy didn’t notice how easily his sword slipped through the man’s body until the man’s body clattered to the grass._

_He stared blankly as the man choked on his own blood._

_The shades of red, green, and the yellow of the man’s shirt bled together like a watercolour painting._

_And he ran._

Tearing his sorrowful gaze away from the sky, looking down at his boots as he walked towards his home. It was away from the village; serene and quiet. The man had built it all himself.

_The stitches sewn on his sweater felt like bowling balls._

Oliver knew that the potion’s numbing affect would wear off soon; heck, it almost was worn off. Perhaps that would take his mind off of-

_Blood staining his hands as he ran and ran, and didn’t look back. Blood roaring in his ear, red, red, red. Everywhere he looked, red-_

Shaking his head, the man stumbled down the hill leading to his house, almost tripping over a root at the pace he was going. His heart sunk when he noticed a bouquet of  _red_ roses at his doormat with a note on it.

_Dear Oliver,_

_Thank you for entertaining the kids with your stories! I hope you can find a nice place for these._

_~ Caterpillar Daycare_

Numbly, he reached down and fiddled with the  _red_ flowers.

_Red, red, red._

He took the  _red_ flowers to his pond, untying them, and unsheathing his sword.

In one slash, the flowers were removed from the stems, sinking deeper and deeper in to the pond.

They didn’t sink fast enough.


	3. These Strings Of Mine Pull Themselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time to start a new chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> e

The smooth and gentle whisper of guitar strings met the morning’s serene self, the soft singing of birds outside of the wooden house. Somehow, it seemed to mix with the music he was making, birdsong and acoustic guitar. It was like pancakes and syrup, butter and toast. They were paired together.

The man’s calloused fingers glided along the metal strings, taking on a melancholy tone, like black and grey, and a fox hunting a rabbit. It all fit together like puzzle pieces, but nobody knew why it fit together. Nobody understood the puzzle pieces until the full picture was formed.

“Hanging on a wooden rail..” his voice trailed off, and after a few more repeats of the same chords, his hand came to a stop on to the bronze strings, feeling the vibrations fizzle out through his hands and the earthy noise fade in to oblivion. It didn’t feel right; it was all jumbled up, it was mixed up like a ball of yarn, knotted and stuck together.

So he would dance around the issue, he would not sing this song today. It was not the right time, nothing felt right. But that was okay for now. Things didn’t have to be right for him, they usually never were.

Letting out the faintest of breaths, he stood up from his chair that overlooked the pond from his bedroom window. His reflection in the glass reminded him of the event a day before, where the petals lay at the bottom of the pond, withering and breaking away. 

The pain in his shoulder and back were constant reminders, feelings he would not be able to forget until the wounds had fully healed. It would be long before then, and the man could already hear the wishes of good recovery, the “take it easy”’s that would surely be told to him. Frankly, he didn’t want anything to do with anyone today, but Oliver knew that he didn’t have that luxury of peace and quiet.

Being a hero (despite how much he denied it) was wonderful at the beginning, and tiring all after that. Eventually the praises became meaningless, eventually the trauma became too hard to bear, eventually the sword became too heavy in your hand that you could barely lift it to strike down another opponent.

Heroism was a lie. There was no glory to it. There was no victory, there was only loss.

And yet, Oliver kept on clinging to that one word; _“hero”_. Somehow, that justified all of his actions, to him. It justified all of the _deaths_ , all of the _bloodshed_ , all of the _pain_. But deep down inside, he knew that it didn’t justify it. Oliver decided that living in denial right now would ease the pain.

His eyes travelled along his bedroom; one thing to note about his house was that he didn’t have a roof. It was covered by the thick foliage of the trees, it didn’t need a roof. When it rained, sure, some of the raindrops slithered through the wide multicoloured leaves, but it was home.

_It was home._

~~ _Home is where the hurt is._ ~~

The inelegant screech of his bird broke him out of his thoughts, and he rubbed his head. Oliver walked over to the trapdoor, unlocking it and pushing it open. He stared blankly at the ladder for a moment, before sliding down it.

**_Rise and shine, sleeping beauty._ **

The boy almost fell off the ladder, tripping over it and tumbling to the ground, letting out a shriek of pain from the very fresh arrow wounds. The pain was still very much there.

_ The voice was unfamiliar to him, echoed and dark, thunderous and carrying the weight of a thousand souls. However, when he looked up, there was nobody around him, only the slight scent of gasoline, ashes, and decay. _

_ “Show yourself!” The man lifted himself off of the ground, holding his aching head and feeling the slight wetness of a watery substance, that he soon recognized to be **blood**. His breath began to quicken, his heart began to race, and there was just so much **blood** , **blood** **blood blood** , red like the inside of his body, red like the **blood** on his hands that were not his own, red like the flowers and the petals that lay drowning in the pond, all of it was red- _

He woke up from the vision, finding himself still on the floor from where he tumbled from the ladder. The scent was gone, his head was not bleeding, but his heart was still racing, and his head still ached with the force of a thousand anvils.

“I- I-I’m insane,” he cursed under his breath, pushing his fatigued self up from the wooden floor as he stumbled out the door.

Everything was too loud, the bird’s singing sounded like horns screeching in his ear, the man’s body felt overheated and he could feel the uncomfortable beads of sweat drip down his face, the wind freezing his skin as it met the sweat.

He pressed his hand on the exterior walls of the house, tripping over himself a few times as he guided himself to the pond, his head held in his hands. Oliver plunged his skull in to the water, letting the liquid wake him from his dream-like trance, the malicious and unknown attack on his body.

Oliver didn’t know how long he had his head underwater, but it was long enough for his lungs to scream for air, long enough for him to be sent reeling once he emerged from the blue depths. The man sat back, the small ripples lapping at his shoes as he breathed heavily, sucking in the precious air that he robbed himself of. The droplets of water travelled down his face, and his wet hair stuck to his head.

“God, I’m insane,” he laughed at himself with no humour in his voice, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his head in his arms. His body shivered with the cold and the stress from the panic attack a minute ago.

Oliver could’ve sworn he heard that unfamiliar voice laughing at him, but he couldn’t be sure.

He sat out there for hours upon hours, head buried in his arms, until he felt a hand brush his shoulder. Oliver flinched under the touch, lifting his fists defensively to hit whatever was touching him.

“ _Woah, woah, woah!_ Hey, it’s okay, it’s me.” Now that voice was familiar. His watery and puffy red eyes shot up to see Phosphoron standing in front of him, concern in her glowing blue eyes.

Wordlessly, the man sniffled and lunged toward her, Phos letting out a startled cry, but relaxing slightly as she felt him wrap his arms around her waist in a tight embrace. Unsure of what to do, the woman gestured at her twin, squinting slightly.

“Uhm.. there there?” It sounded like more of a question than a reassurance, but it was enough. It was enough, because it was her, and it was real.

Strix made her way over, hugging the two for a moment, before all three let go. The mythical creature’s tail flicked for a moment at the end, brushing against the water of the pond.

“You wanna talk about what just happened?” Strix asked, her voice soft. Both of them were thoroughly confused.

“We need to-“

A bark interrupted the man, and joy lit up on his face, slightly relieved that he didn’t have to talk. “Soop!” He cheered, and the dog in question bounded towards him, tackling him.

Oliver winced, and as soon as the dog noticed that he was injured, she backed off, but not before licking his cheek. Her tail wagged excitedly, and she turned to Strix and Phosphoron.

Phos was already prepared, a bone in her hand. She waved it above Soop’s head, before chucking it, giggling as the wolf disappeared in to the bushes, before re-emerging with the bone and trotting triumphantly back to the woman.

“So, we heard about this village North of here, long journey, probably deadly, but apparently there’s tons of treasure and fighting..” Oliver tuned out Strix’s voice. All of their adventures were the same now, blurring together. How much treasure did they need? How many lives did they have to end, and for what?

His thoughts brought him back to the book, and about how he still had to delve in to it’s contents. Oliver was nervous and excited, all at the same time, an unconscious smile spreading across his face at the thought of a new adventure. Of course, this could be some fairytale, but even the slightest insinuation to the unknown peaked his curiousity.

“Oliver, you good?” Strix snapped her fingers over his face, and he broke out of his thoughtful daydream.

“Oh, yeah, tip-top. Listen Strix, I really need to get back to work, redstone stuff, you wouldn’t understand,” He rambled on about redstone engineering, trying to remove the unconvinced look on Strix’s face. She eyed him for a moment, before nodding slowly.

“Okay, well, if you need anything.. give us a call, okay? Don’t shut us out,” Her voice was light and joking at the end, but there was always a little bit of truth in the jokes they shared. It made his gut churn with guilt. Was he being selfish?

He just didn’t want them to get their hopes up to be let down by him, again.

**_You’re doing the right thing._ **

He jumped at the voice, his eyes darting around.

_Who are you?_

**_A friend. I look forward to meeting you in person, very soon._ **

Strix and Phos waved their goodbyes, leaving Soop with the man. Though he was tense, and he was shaking slightly from the stress and the fear, he felt a bit more warm knowing that Soop would be here. He brushed his hands along the dog’s fur.

The man walked back through the door of the house, shutting it behind him with a click, and opening his satchel to lay the obsidian book on the wooden table.

The faster this was over, the quicker he could stop the lies. The quicker he could prove himself.

_It was time to start a new chapter._


	4. Demise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver hates phantoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t hate me <3

He ran his fingers along the book, anxiety building up in his chest as he stared at the black cover. Oliver didn’t give himself much time to dwell on it, for if he did, he was sure he would back away. For some reason, he felt connected to the journal, like a siren calling him to the rocks.

His heart pounded in his chest, thumping like a musician with their drums, slamming relentlessly inside his ribcage. The man swallowed his unnecessary anxiety and fear, and opened the book with shaking hands.

Immediately, he was met with pages unfamiliar with him; charred, rough, and almost metal-like texture, with white ink used instead of the usual black. It was confusing and interesting, all at the same time.

The words engraved were even more confusing.

_If you are reading this, this journal is more of a cry for help than anything else. I have hidden instructions within these pages. God save us all of this journal falls in to the wrong hands._

Oliver raised an eyebrow slightly at that, squinting slightly at the white ink as he read over the sentences repeatedly.

Dramatic, he thought to himself, but he had no idea what the author was going through, so who was he to judge? They could be in danger, and it looked like the evidence was leaning towards that theory.

Inhaling sharply, he read some more.

_ I took it upon myself as a young scientist to explore the possibilities of a new realm. These ancient structures have been found all over the Overworld. It looks as if the strange red blocks have been seeping in to our realm, followed by chests of specifically golden items. Obsidian structures are embedded in these red blocks, with even cracked and purple leaking obsidian, which I have decided to name “crying obsidian.” _

Oliver’s eyes trailed down to the image that the author had sketched. It matched the structure he had described, with the portal and chests and the strange red blocks that looked eerily similar to the ones he had seen in the enderman’s-

_Wait._

Suddenly, he felt desperation clawing at him like a hungry bear, a prick of excitement seeping through the desperation. Oliver could only read more.

_Who, or what, built these structures? Why are they here? These questions haunt my sleep every night. I must dig deeper._

_Until next time._

  * _Professor_



The name was scratched out with the white ink, and Oliver narrowed his eyes as he tried to make out a name. However, after almost a full ten minutes of investigating, his efforts did not pay off.

With a prick of both excitement and fear, Oliver wondered how Strix and Phos were going to react to this. They were definitely going to be pumped to hear about the chance of a new world! Of course, they were probably going to think he was crazy, but there was always a chance they would decide to believe him on this.

Oliver flipped the page. He felt the tiny voice in his head start to speak, only to cut itself off. Something was eating at him, and even he didn’t know.

Despite that, he decided to read on.

_I searched back through all of the books that I could find in the libraries, only to come up short. However, when asking around, I came across a mysterious traveller who lead me to a cave. Painted upon them were instructions, ancient cave paintings that looked exactly like the structures I found. It will take me some time to decode these messages underneath the paintings._

_Who created these structures and paintings, I still do not know. By the time I was full of unanswered questions, the traveller was nowhere to be found._

_I fear something grim will spark from this path._

  * _Professor_



A familiar weight cast upon his chest, his eyes narrowing in fear for a split second. Shaking himself out, he shut the book.

Why was he feeling this way? He was stressed and overworked, a deep pit of anger and longing knotting itself in his stomach.

Oliver decided he just needed some fresh air. Standing up, he opened up the door and smiled when he was met with the sight of Soop. He bent down to pet the dog, giggling at the barks that he earned.

“You wanna go on a walk, girl? Going to be short, I just want to clear my head. It’s been..” he trailed off, looking back to the house for a moment. “A tough day.” He finished.

Soop just blinked curiously up at him, her tail still wagging obliviously. Even though she was a dog, Oliver felt comfort in talking to her.

“Let’s go, Soop, while we still have daylight. We don’t wanna be out at night,” he shivered at the thought of facing skeletons and zombies, spiders that were half his size, and phantoms that would swoop from above.

Oliver whistled as he walked towards the forest, his iron boots thumping quietly against the ground as he continued on his merry path. He hadn’t gone in this direction before, it was new and exciting, even if he wasn’t going on a long adventure.

Soop barked, stopping along the way to sniff the ground and the trees, stopping as the forest shifted in to a meadow. The beautiful colours blended perfectly together, a smile widening on Oliver’s face as he bent down to pick more than a few.

Soop bounded in to the flowers without hesitation, rubbing her scent all over them. The man laughed, the dog peeking up from behind a large bush, launching at him and tackling him to the grass, much to his surprise.

“Soop! What are you doing?” He laughed, and in between his words, the wolf barked and rolled off of him.

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” he snickered, tossing a flower at the wolf, who sneezed.

The duo continued on, stopping at a few points to relax. He laughed when Soop nudged him, but his laughter ceased when he felt himself teeter over an edge.

The wolf immediately noticed, grabbing his pant leg in between her fangs and pulling him away from the edge, causing him to com tumbling down in to the grass and dirt.

“Wha-“ he shifted on to his side, pushing himself back up on to his feet. When he looked back, his eyes widened.

Before him lay a ravine, the deepest one that he had ever seen. Lava burned below in one section, bubbling as it mixed with water.

“Thanks girl, that could’ve.. that could’ve ended badly.” He breathed, his chest rising up and down a bit faster.

Oliver’s eyes widened with fear as he looked up at the sky. He hadn’t realized how long he was out, the cold and deadly figure of night making itself clear.

“Soop, we have to go, now!” He cried, but as he moved to get away from the ledge, the cry of a phantom rang out.

Pain scorched through his chest as the creature slammed against him, whisking him away from the land under his feet.

**_Come to me._ **

His green eyes widened as his mouth opened in a soundless scream as he fell in free fall, straight in to the ravine. He heard the distant barks of Soop from above.

His body shattered, crumbled, and broke as his back slammed against the cold stone. 

The death was instant.


	5. Hello, Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s hard to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHHHHH SHIT
> 
> YEAH I DID THAT

The funeral was a quiet ceremony.

It wasn’t large, only close friends were allowed attend. Bouquets of flowers decorated the stone, vases of clay filled to the brim with multi-coloured flowers (including red). There were little gifts that were placed by the grave, that townsfolk and children had given to the attendees.

It was beautiful, and it was horrifying.

Phosphoron was silent the entire time, tightening the bandana over her glowing eyes to soak up the tears that had managed to slip out. Her fists shook slightly as she stared at the writing on the grave with cold eyes:

**“ In Loving Memory Of,**

**Oliver “**

It made her sick to her stomach.

Oliver, the friend she had spoken to only a day ago, confirmed to be dead. She could still hear his voice echoing through her ears, haunting her.

Strixfire leaned on to the woman, and despite Phosphoron’s discomfort at the close proximity, she decided that she would be that rock for now. Strix sobbed, her tail dropping to the grass.

What would they do now? How could they possibly go back to how things were?

After the ceremony, a flare of anger burst inside of her as citizens came to apologize for her loss. Some, she had never even met before.

It infuriated her, people mourning the loss of a man they had never met. It infuriated her, people constantly apologizing when they had nothing to do with his death.

It infuriated her, the people attending who didn’t have to see his body shattered and torn and smashed at the bottom of that god-forsaken ravine like it was a glass bowl.

What pissed her off the most?

The people attending, other than Strixfire, didn’t see that image in their mind’s eye everytime they closed their eyes. 

_Blood pooling around the corpse, bones sticking out from under the skin at odd angles, some even breaking through the flesh. His knee was bent backwards, fingers bent and broken. His sightless and lifeless green eyes stared up aimlessly at the sky, while his mouth lay ajar._

It was as easy as hello, goodbye. One day, he was alive, the next, he was gone, and he was never coming back. 

Oliver was _dead._

Nobody wanted to believe it. Nobody wanted to accept the bitter truth, nobody wanted to be kept awake at night thinking about how the once bubbly and determined adventurer now lay in a casket six feet under.

Soop came up to brush her ankle, a whimper emitting from the dog’s mouth. Phos’s eyes softened under the bandana, and she bent down to stroke the dog’s head softly. 

“What are we going to do now..” she mumbled.

She didn’t know who she was asking.

•

_Soop bolted through the forest, her paws thumping against the patches of grass as she ran faster than she ever had before. The dog didn’t want to believe it, she denied it over and over, but the way that her friend lay unmoving in the ravine.._

_No. He wasn’t. Her pack mate would not die that easily. They survived the impossible before, and they would do it again._

_She passed Oliver’s house in haste, leapingforward in a quick and repeated pattern. Soopcame across the river, lunging in to it as she felt the cool water wave against her underbelly and soak in to her fur._

_The wolf panted as she swam across the water in swift kicks and strokes. She pulled herself on to the dirt and sand, shaking her fur out for a moment, before continuing her trek._

_Soop arrived at the village, barking louder than she ever had before._

_Berry noticed immediately, gesturing towards the potato farm, where the dog’s eyes narrowed on Phos._

•

Strix despised funerals.

They brought her mood down entirely, a feeling of cold sadness washing over her soul as icy tears streamed down her saddened face.

He was gone. The friend that she spent time with, the friend that she spent hours talking to, the friend that she went on countless adventures with.

Gone, just like that. 

It wouldn’t matter how many memories they shared, he would still be dead. No matter how much she tried to get him back, he would still be dead.

It was cruel. Death made her sick to her stomach, her stomach churning as she looked at the gravestone. It was so, so cruel.

She leaned on to her friend for support, daring to look up at the woman. Phos didn’t look back, her eyes staring a hole in to the gravestone.

The same thought ran through both of their minds; what was next?

They all thought the same thing. Everything was all jumbled up, it was never supposed to be like this. They told each other that they were going to be friends forever, that they would much rather die than leave each other’s side.

Strixfire opened her mouth to say something, something to try to brighten the mood, something to make the pain ease a little bit.

No words came out.

•

_“Soop?” The woman asked curiously, concern lacing her tone at the end as she saw the dog in a distressed state. A mortifying realization struck her:_

_Where was Oliver?_

_Phosphoron called down from the farm, terror as well as urgency lacing her tone. “STRIX!” She shrieked._

_Strixfire looked up from what she was doing, slightly annoyed. “What?” She asked, almost considering going back to work when Phosphoron paused._

_“It’s Oliver. He’s not here!”_

•

Berry was trying to be positive.

So far, it was not working at all. She couldn’t find anything good that came out of this situation, guilt gnawing at her as she remembered that one of the last things that she said to the man was “soon they’ll be hauling back a corpse.”

Oh, if she could turn back time, she would’ve never said that. In fact, she would’ve taken Oliver and locked him in her house, to keep him from the death that came merely two days later.

The red flowers terrified her. She could only imagine what the body looked like from underneath the cover.

•

_The two tried to keep up with Soop, but it was difficult, considering they had to run such a long distance. They tried the best they could, leaves slipping from the branches and on to the grass floor._

_They came up to the ravine, slowing to a stop as soon as they saw the opening in the ground. Phosphoron had a terrible feeling, like something horrible had already happened._

_Turns out, she was right._

_“Where is he, Soop? Show us.” Strix encouraged, and the dog nodded at the edge, whimpering._

_They immediately wished that they had never looked over._

_There lay his body, and even from a distance, they could tell that he was horribly disfigured. If there was any chance that he was still alive, he would probably never be able to walk, speak, see, he would never be able to live anymore._

_“He’s..”_

_“Oh my god.”_

_The trip back with the corpse was silent and gruelling. Neither of them looked down at it, they didn’t want to see the once alive and breathing adventurer like this._

_He was dead._

_Dead._

_And he was never coming back._

•

Eventually, everybody parted ways, leaving the gravestone, Strix, and Phosphoron behind. The pair shared few words, unwilling to distract themselves from the thoughts racing through both of their heads.

Dusk began to change in to night as the last beam of light was put out, the dark and starry night sky taking over.

They said their goodbyes, leaving flowers behind, but both of them knew that they would be in the exact same place the next day.

•

_I’m supposed to be dead, why am I not dead?_

_Please._

_Hello?_


	6. Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing new character
> 
> enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonk

The suffocating feeling of panic flushed in to his mind as graceful as a raging tidal wave, crashing through his mind’s peace and ripping it to shreds until it was nothing but a pile of garbage and ash.

His back was flushed against a large piece of hardwood, pain coursing through his body at the slightest movement. Oliver couldn’t see anything.

Claustrophobia wrapped around his throat like a viper, daring to sink it’s venom in to his neck. He shivered and shook inside of this strange place, his body aching relentlessly.

Oliver could almost hear whispering in his ear, before his eyelids felt too heavy and he drifted off in to an unconscious state.

•

The man woke up standing over a dirt pile, finally being able to see at the moment. He stared down at his hands, disfigured, broken, shattered, and he almost shrieked in terror. Pain ripped through his throat at the slightest of noises.

His green eyes landed on the gravestone behind the dirt pile, flowers laying beside it. Some of the flowers were delicately placed in painted and clay vases, others were just sitting in perfectly weaves bouquets.

At any other time, he would’ve admired their work, payed his respects to the one who passed, but he couldn’t.

Not when the grave was his own.

**“ In Loving Memory Of,**

**Oliver “**

His brain hadn’t even caught up to how he’d gotten out of his.. coffin in the first place. Oliver felt himself fall in to the same deep slumber he had before, the one that was simply irresistible.

Wait..

Needless to say, this strange and eerie exhaustion did not wait.

•

The next time he awoke, his disfigured and morbid-looking hands had been snapped back in to place, and he no longer felt the molten pain on his skin that he had felt earlier. He no longer felt like his skull was splitting open, or that his spine was going to shatter.

“This- this is a dream,” he laughed to himself; it was a humourless laugh. One filled with a manic panic and fear. “I’m going to wake up any minute now. Please, someone, wake me up.”

He received no answer, expectedly. The man took in his surroundings, looking directly at the campfire in front of him. Oliver was sitting in a cave, the smoke whisking out of the cave’s entrance.

“Interesting,” he mumbled, poking at the flames with a stick.

_What the fuck was he supposed to do now?_

The town thought he was dead. Everyone thought he was dead. Strixfire, Phosphoron, Berry, heck, even Soop. How would he go back and explain that he was still alive?

Even he didn’t know how he was alive. This was all just some sick and twisted nightmare, he would wake up soon, right?

_Right?_

He leaned back against the cave wall, the comforting feeling of the pressure against his back lulling him to sleep. His heart beat—

_Wait._

He felt his chest, looking for the comforting heart beat that had helped him slow his breathing multiple times by just feeling it.

But the comforting beat was nowhere to be found.

Panic swelled up in his chest, his throat feeling tighter than it was before. He swallowed unrelenting pulses of fear as he tried to calm himself down.

“This is just a dream, I’m not dead, I’m going to wake up,” he repeated to himself like a mantra, his eyes widened.

**Mortals, always so delicate.**

_What the fuck?_

“Who’s there?” His tone was as scared as it was demanding. The echo in the voice’s tone held multiple pitches, high and lows. It shook the man to his core.

**Oh, and stupid. Naive, brain dead, the list goes on.**

Oliver almost laughed, rolling his eyes. “Okay, I didn’t ask to be dragged like this,” he smirked, but then his voice took on a serious tone. “I asked who’s there.”

**I didn’t even say “knock knock” first!**

“If you’re trying to kill me, this is the strangest villain introduction I’ve ever experienced.”

**Why would I kill my host?**

“Host? What do you mean?” His voice shook slightly at that. Only parasites really used that word.

**Let me put this a way that a naive mortal like you will understand.**

He scoffed at the ‘naive’ part, but decided to listen anyways. Oliver didn’t understand why he wasn’t scared, but he wasn’t complaining.

**I was searching for a body to inhabit little after you died. I came across the ravine, where you shattered your mortal body, and connected to your soul and your corpse. I saved your life, host.**

Oliver shut his eyes for a moment, exhaling sharply. “What do you want me to say? ‘Thank you’? Repay you for saving my life?” He snapped.

“I don’t owe you anything. Also, don’t call me ‘host’. My name is Oliver.”

**Very well, host.**

“I can tell that we’re not going to get along very well,” he mumbled, and a laugh emitted from the creature, echoing and pitchy, reminding him of a radio.

“So, do you just live in my head now, or something?” He asked after a moment of silence. He would never admit it, but he was slightly thankful for the strange entity being there and speaking. It helped distract him from the fact that he was, well, dead.

Black smoke drifted out from around him, several layers of white and glowing eyes on the pitch black. There were rows of white and shiny teeth in the smoke, causing Oliver’s nose to wrinkle in disgust.

**Is this better?**

“Uh.. do you have any other form?” He swallowed.

The black smoke formed in to a tall creature, six glowing eyes on its face and no mouth, with large antlers and two small horns, as well as two vast wings. It was better, but it was still disturbing.

“Okay, that’s better. Do you have any others, or is that it?”

**These two are the only forms I am willing to show you, host.**

“Oliver. Call me Oliver.”

**Host.**

“Oliver.”

**Host.**

“Oliver!”

**Host.**

“This is pointless,” he sighed, sitting back down and leaning his head against the stone wall. The creature sat on the other side, copying his form with a tilted head.

“And what do I call you?” He asked, and the creature merely blinked with its six eyes, looking away. Oliver scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Guess I’ll be calling you parasite then,” he shrugged, relishing in the satisfaction as the creature’s head whipped towards him.

**I am not a parasite.**

“You one-hundred percent are!”

**I don’t like that name. And you are not the one who names me, host.**

“Looks like you’ll have to deal with it. Or, you can stop calling me ‘host’ and I will stop calling you parasite.” He shrugged, smirking at the parasite.

**I will think about it.**

“Thanks, Parasite, I appreciate it.”

Parasite scowled, his smoky body disappearing as Oliver began to doze off.

Maybe, just maybe, he would be alright.


	7. No Death Without A Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha

When the sun came up, truths were revealed, ugly and dark truths, along with light and friendly truths. The light was honest, pure, true, vibrant.

When the sun went down, lies were formed. In every truth, there were lies. Nobody truly was honest, not even the sun. The dark was cold, fearful, angry, dull.

But not everything was in black and white, dark and light. You would have to break through the fake and innocent surface to reveal the deeper truths and lies. 

So when the sun came up, revealing the empty coffin and hole where her friend’s body once lay, Phosphoron was fully aware that she only knew a portion of the story. 

That didn’t make her any less angry.

It was all unexpected, the death, the burial, the sudden disappearance. It was as if someone had set this up, like it was planned from the beginning. Like someone was writing their story and they were mere words on a page, simply there for others to read.

The thought made her sick to her stomach.

Phos tightened her bandana on her glowing eyes, a stony expression coming to settle on her face as she stared at the empty coffin. What once was six feet under, was now dug up and _destroyed_.

The woman was _not_ going to stop until she figured out what happened here. She needed to hear the full story, but she didn’t know where to start.

However, Strix was already planning something. She was already asking around the town, looking for witnesses of last night’s event. Of course, there were guards that were posted outside of the graveyard, _specifically to ward off grave robbers_ , but they had said that they never saw anyone come in.

The only thing left that was not there before was a torn out page, laying on top of the dirt mound. She had read it over and over again, _thousands_ of times.

** Enter the Professor’s office. Find the lever, and pull it. Don’t be late. **

** See you soon. **

The handwriting was unfamiliar, neat and tidy. Whoever this was, they were clearly looking to either meet them, or trap them. She assumed it was the latter.

Nobody good would ever steal a body, especially his.

The problem was, she didn’t know where this “professor” was. It frustrated her to her core.

She whistled for Soop, the dog coming up next to her.

So, she would start with the main point in town.

•

The saloon doors opened, shifty eyes looking her up and down as she entered the bar. Her existence wasn’t exactly invisible; a lot of people had heard of her adventures and heroic actions.

Drunken laughter and slurring of words could be heard around the saloon, shattering of glass followed by an uproar of laughter. She rolled her eyes as her nose scrunched up at the scent of alcohol.

She looked through the crowd for any suspicious figures, slowly beginning to ask around.

“Do you know about a professor around here?” She asked anyone who looked like they would know, coming up empty-handed. Sighing, she sat down on a bar stool, refusing a drink when the bartender offered her one.

“Suit yourself,” the bartender shrugged, leaving her with a bowl of almonds and nuts.

“Hey!” Someone yelled behind her, the man’s hand coming to rest on her shoulder. He was obviously intoxicated. “Hey sweetheart, why don’t you take that mask off and show me that pretty face?” He slurred.

Phosphoron’s stomach churned with disgust as his hand came up to touch hers on the table. She smiled, a very fake and dangerous smile, and reached in to her pocket to grab something very shiny.

Without hesitation, she shifted her hand out from under his and slammed the knife down on it, piercing through the delicate flesh and pinning it to the table.

“Say it again,” there was venom in her tone.

The man howled in pain, wrenching the knife out of his hand and reeling backwards. Crying out, he fled the scene, bursting through the saloon doors.

She groaned in frustration, slamming her fist down on the wooden table. Strix came up next to her, whilst Soop growled at any shifty character that got too close.

“Any luck?” Strix asked cautiously, exhaustion in her tone. Phos merely shook her head.

“Professor. Why is it so hard to find a professor?” She grumbled, unaware of a figure looking towards her.

“Uhm, excuse me miss, did you just say professor?” A voice came from behind her, and both Strix and Phos turned to look at the woman in question.

“Yeah, do you know anything about it?” Strix started, whilst Phos stayed silent.

“I used to work with a professor. He went missing years back, we used to be great friends!” the woman exclaimed, her eyes darkening. She looked to the side of her, like she saw something.

Strix and Phos exchanged a look, turning back to her. “Really? Do you know where we could find his office?”

“Of course! Is there any reason why?” She looked them up and down. Phos felt excitement bubbling up in her chest at the thought of a lead.

“We lost a good friend of ours a few days ago. Someone left a note to find the office,” Strix explained, and Phos looked uncertain. Why should they be telling a stranger what was going on?

The woman nodded slowly. “Okay. Come with me!”

Phos shook her head, her glowing eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t catch your name.”

The woman looked over her shoulder, a bright smile on her face. 

“The name’s Amber.”

•

**There is no time to waste, host.**

“What do you mean?”

**Good night.**


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wholesome

When Oliver woke up, he didn’t expect to see a huge creature with muscular arms and sharp claws with six white glowing eyes on top of him and no mouth, just staring in to his green ones.

He blinked in shock for a moment, before gracefully slamming his knee in to the creature’s stomach. It barely moved, and that’s when Oliver decided to say something.

“If you don’t get off of me in five seconds, I’m poking all of your eyes with my finger.”

The creature hesitated for a moment, weighing his options, before vanishing in to a flurry of black smoke and swirling around him as he got up.

Oliver’s surroundings were different, but this was not news to him. He’d been waking up in random areas every time he fell asleep or passed out, which was getting old really quick.

The weight of the parasite was removed off of him, and he sat up, feeling the grass under his body as he nudged a purple flower. Interesting.

“What were you doing, parasite?” He asked, and mused on the thought of someone seeing him, talking to himself.

**I’m not going to answer that.**

Oliver sighed. It had been back and forth like this for several days, and he was fed up with it. Parasite wasn’t willing to talk about anything, besides making fun of him for dying, boasting about how he’s immortal, and bullying him for being mortal.

“Okay, how about this? We’ll ask questions, back and forth. I’ll answer any questions you have, and you have to answer any questions I have. Sound fair?”

He could almost hear the gears grinding in the creature’s head, and the black smoke formed in to the form that Oliver liked to call “edgy for no reason.”

** I believe we have a deal. On the terms that I start first. **

The man almost laughed, but nodded anyways, a smile creeping on to his face. “Hit me.”

Without warning, Parasite hit him on the arm, introducing Oliver to a new level of pain.

“ _OW!_ FUCK!” He shouted, falling backwards and cradling his arm, glaring daggers at the creature who stared at him with a blank face. “What the _fuck_ was that for?!”

** You said to hit you. **

“It’s an expression! It means to ask what you want to, not _actually_ hit me!”

** That’s.. new information, I will remember that. **

The creature came up to sit a few feet away from Oliver, whilst the man held his arm and whined. “I knew you had crazy demon strength,” he groaned.

** I’m not a demon. **

“Noted.”

There was a moment of silence before Parasite began speaking once more, his eyes focused on the trees.

**Why aren’t you afraid of me?**

Oliver paused, daring to look at the creature who didn’t meet his gaze. His green eyes looked him up and down, taking in his appearance.

“What’s there to be afraid of?” He murmured softly, tilting his head.

When he didn’t answer, Oliver continued.

“Any _average_ person would be scared of you. You’re literally the stuff of nightmares,” His confidence boosted when he heard a small chuckle leave the creature. “But I’m not an average person, and I’ve seen so many things that I’m not scared of anymore,”

“I used to be afraid of death, but, now that I’m kind of dead,” he swallowed. “It doesn’t scare me anymore. Not much does.”

The creature hummed, and silence fell again.

“What’s your name?” Oliver inquired, looking away from him.

**I am Rahab.**

Oliver nodded along, waiting for more information that never came.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rahab.” He stood up, holding his hand out to shake. There was a goofy smile on his face.

Rahab blinked with all six of his eyes, copying the man’s movements and standing up himself. He stared down at the mortal’s hand, weighing his options, before shaking it.

**I look forward to knowing you more, Oliver.**

“Likewise.”


	9. The Past Stays Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they were afraid. Would they let that stop them? No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2,556 WORDS LET’S GOOOOO

The name was familiar, right off the bat. It was like a call, like an old friend’s name that weighed heavy on her heart and tongue.

Phosphoron looked at Amber with inquisitive eyes as she followed her, Soop and Strix not far behind. The travel was fairly quiet so far, besides a few barks from Soop when she spotted a bird or another dog.

Amber fell in beside Phos, looking at the woman with curious eyes that matched her own. Her guard was immediately up.

“What are you looking at?” Phos asked, but there was no bite to her words like there usually was. It was more of a genuine question than a sarcastic one.

“I dunno, just feel like I’ve seen you before. You’re.. Phosphoron, right?” The woman asked, and Phosphoron simply nodded. If there was one thing she knew, it was to only speak when she absolutely needed to.

“I’m kind of an adventurer myself,” Amber grinned, and she turned to reveal a small hermit crab on her shoulder.

Suddenly, a flood of memories crashed in to her mind, and she stiffened.

_Calm and serene afternoons followed by gentle and light laughter ringing through the small home- no, not home. Her parents weren’t there-_

“Phos?” Amber poked her on the shoulder, causing Phos to move away from the woman slightly. Her glowing eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Don’t touch me.” She said through gritted teeth, and Amber hummed, nodding cautiously.

“Where did you get that crab?” Phos asked, staring at it with focus and intensity.

The woman shrugged, poking it. “Kind of hard to remember, I was a kid when I got him. I like to call him Hermy,”

Another landslide of emotion and memories hit her, and she reeled backwards like she had been struck.

_Emotions weighed heavy on her heart as she wrote the note, leaving it down by Amber’s bed. Hermes was sitting there right by the letter, and Phos let out a watery laugh, knowing that this would be one of the last times she saw him._

_No, she had to do this for herself._

  
“You okay there?” Amber waved her hand in front of the woman. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she laughed nervously.

“I know you.” Phosphoron blurted out, words tumbling out of her mouth before she could think about them. “You’re Amber, from the orphanage. I know you.”

Amber stopped dead in her tracks, looking at the warrior with cautious and calculating eyes, before looking past her for a moment, a small smile creeping on her face as her eyes landed back on the woman.

“I thought I knew you from somewhere,” Amber laughed. It was a watery laugh, filled to the brim with emotion.

Phosphoron was at a loss for words, her hands fiddling with one another. It had been so long since they last talked, since they were split up after the orphanage had closed down.

_She was frightened, having nowhere else to turn after escaping the orphanage. Phos had nowhere to go, no family to talk to, nobody to look after her. She was truly alone._

_Years after that, she was still on her own. A bounty hunter on the run, travelling from city to city without a care in the world. All she cared about was herself._

_There was no room for the past anymore. She had to take care of herself. Phos tried her best to forget the awful place. During the process of losing the past, she lost herself._

_Amber would be so disappointed._

Phos hesitated for a moment, before stepping closer to the other. Amber was as stiff as a board, before she crashed in to the other in a suffocating embrace. The adventurer froze for a moment, before slowly hugging back.

Tears streamed down both of their faces, but Phosphoron’s were dried by the mask that wrapped around her glowing eyes.

“You hide your eyes now,” Amber noted, and thoughtful the glowing light was hard to miss, she still vaguely remember them without the blindfold. “Why?”

“There’s no point in others seeing them. Plus, they’re uh, they’re not the best,” Phosphoron said sheepishly, rubbing her neck. It was an uncomfortable exchange.

Amber shrugged, deciding to leave it at that. In the distance, there was an old run-down building, covered in vines and multi-coloured leaves that hung down over various parts of the building. Moss crept underneath the stone, growing out and shifting the blocks of brick and stone to make them uneven.

If there was one word to describe it, it would be: shitty. Simple as that.

“You sure this is the right place?” Strix asked as she came up behind the two, scaring both of them. Soop growled at the building in the distance, taking a cautious stance.

“Are you really asking the one who literally worked with the Professor if this is the right place?” Amber asked, but it didn’t have any venom in it. More of a playful teasing. That was one word to describe Amber, playful.

Strix’s tail whipped as she nervously laughed. As they drew closer to the building, her movements became more weary and cautious.

“I expected it to be.. more taken care of than this, if I’m being honest,” Phos said, distaste clear in her tone. “You never came back to take care of it? It looks like it was a sight for sore eyes before.”

When Amber’s eyes darkened, that’s when Phos knew that she had said the wrong thing.

“Too many memories here. I couldn’t come back.”

Strix nodded, and Phos decided not to pry anymore. There was no use in losing a friend during this mission.

They came across a gate that blocked the whole place in. It was unstable and clearly about to tumble, so they didn’t have much trouble getting under it, save for a few scrapes on the way through. The awful screeching of armour on metal rang out as they went under the fence.

“I _hate_ that noise,” Strix commented, wincing as her armour screeched against the metal.

“I second that!” Amber had her hands over her ears, flinching at the sound. Phos laughed at the two.

“You know, I always knew that we had a weakness, just never thought it would be metal scraping metal. I’ll keep that in mind next time Strix annoys me,” Phosphoron smirked, giggling at the gasp of betrayal that came from Strix.

“I’ll have you know, I have no weakness. I am Strixfire the Formidable!” She unsheathed her golden battleaxe and raised it to the sky.

“I swear, you are _two years old_ mentally.”

“Am not!”

Their conversation was interrupted by the hiss of something chillingly familiar, and the three turned around to see a creeper standing ten feet away from them. Phos’s nose crinkled in disgust as she saw the green welts and lumps on it as it crept ever closer to the trio.

“I think this is a sign to _run!_ ” Amber called, and the two nodded.

They fled the scene, coming across several more mobs that blocked their path along the way. Phos pulled out her spectral arrows, aiming for another skeleton, and firing the arrow straight through it’s rib cage.

Strix was battling with a horde of zombies, her battle axe beheading more than one of them, blood flying everywhere and splattering her armour. One slammed in to her from behind, where Phos shot the arrow, piercing through the zombie’s skull.

Amber held her shovel up, whacking any mob that got close. She didn’t have much with her, but she was making do with what she had at the moment.

“ _Any_ _idea_ ,” Strix panted when they were backed in to a corner. “On what to do?”

Phosphoron stared at the mobs that were closing in, gripping her bow tightly. “I have an idea, a crazy idea, but it might just work!”

“We’re running out of time, _do it!_ ” The shovel snapped in two as Amber gasped, backing in to a tree while her eyes darted frantically.

Phos reached in to her satchel, pulling out a very pink potion. Without hesitation, she tossed it at the horde of zombies, watching as they screamed and roared and groaned, their decaying flesh melting and burning off from the touch of the potion.

By the end of the fight, the horde was nothing but piles of ashes on the floor. It was morbid, when you really thought about it.

The three slumped against the tree that they were backed in to, Phos leaning her head against the tree bark. They took a moment to regain their energy.

“ _How did you-_ “ Amber cut herself off with a pant. “How did you know that that would work?”

Phos gave a tired laugh. “I didn’t.”

They sat in silence for a while, before Strix piped up.

“Wait, where’s Soop?”

The trio froze, immediately getting on their feet to look for the dog. “Soop?” They called. “Soop!”

Hearing a rustling in the bushes, the group turned around, preparing for another attack.

However, Soop came out of the bushes, dragging a dead skeleton through, holding the arm and grinning happily as her tail wagged.

“You had us worried, girl!” Strix pat Soop’s head, while Phos let out a sigh of relief, coming to kneel by the dog and patting her side.

“Sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but we need to keep moving. There might be another horde of them that we don’t know about,” Amber said, shivering at the thought of facing another horde of those monsters.

The two stood up, praising Soop once more, before continuing on their way. The warriors had splatters of blood on their armour that was quickly drying. It was _red_.

Amber looked behind her, then to the side of her. She mumbled something, and continued beside them.

They came up to the door, and when it didn’t open, they had to kick it down. The old and rotting wooden door fell off it’s hinges with a crash, clattering time the dusty and dirty wooden floor.

“Quite the entrance already,” Amber commented, earning a few uneasy laughs as they entered the building.

It was a laboratory, with papers and drawing and books all over the floor. The lights were out, obviously.

“We’re supposed to be looking for a lever. Keep an eye out, I don’t want to miss it,” Phosphoron ordered. Strix hummed in agreement, while Amber decided against saying anything.

Soop tapped carefully against the wooden floor, sniffing around and picking up loads of new and interesting scents. One of them smelled like pig, and she swiped her tongue across her muzzle.  
  


Phos came across a desk, and on top of it there were drawings of strange architecture, some having small words written beside them.

Strix whipped around at the sound of something falling over, her battle axe raised high, as well as her guard. “Guys, over here!” She called, her grip tightening. Who knew what, or _who_ , they would find in here?

Amber and Phos ran over to Strix in record speed, Phos’s bow ready to fire, aimed towards the noise, and Amber’s fists held up, despite how unthreatening that looked.

“Show yourself!” Strix commanded, and a very familiar voice spoke up.

“ _Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!_ ” The voice was squeaky and meek, hands waving in front of her face as she came out of her hiding place. The three lowered their weapons at the sight.

“Berry?” Phos asked, raising her bow again. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?” She demanded.

Berry backed away from the trio, flinching at Phosphoron’s angry tone. She slowly put her hands down to take a piece of paper out of her pocket.

“You think you guys were the only ones who were told to come here?” Berry slowly gave Strix the piece of paper, gauging their expressions. 

It had the same writing style as the person who had left the note on the grave.

“Phos, look.” Phosphoron read the note for a moment, but did not lower her bow. She stared Berry dead in the eye for a solid minute.

“ _Fine._ ”

Berry let out a sigh of relief that she didn’t know she was holding, looking at the three with nervous and careful eyes. “You’re looking for the same thing right? The lever?”

Strix nodded. “You know where it is?” She asked, but Berry shook her head.

However, the sound of shifting walls and shaking stone rang out, and the four whipped their head around, met with a very smug-looking Soop, who happened to be sitting right by a flipped lever hidden by moss and vine.

“How about that,” Amber breathed, a smile crossing her face as she walked towards the dog. “Great find, Soop!”

The dog barked in return, and the four looked at the gap in the wall that was caused by the lever. 

They strode in to the room, looking at the bits of gold and purple wood that was inside the opening. The purple wood felt infused with heat, but not a scorching heat. A comforting one.

But what caught their eyes the most was a big obsidian structure standing in front of them.

“Over here!” Berry called, Phos turning towards the desk. On top of it were instructions and translations, scribbles and drawings on the paper.

_I have come to the conclusion that this is the Nether Portal, like the ancients told me. My fears have been confirmed of a new dimension. We are not as alone as we think we are._

_I have one confession; something has been guiding me and pulling me to this portal. What it is, I have no idea. If it is good or bad, that is yet to be seen._

_To open the portal, you must ignite it. Fire will do._

_If this is my last message, I would like to thank my assistant, Amber, for being here. I could never have done this project without her, and if you are reading this Amber, I am sorry._

\- _Professor_

“Anyone have flint and steel?” Berry asked after reading the message, turning to look at the “nether portal.”

Phos shook her head, while Amber shook hers too. However, Strix was over in the corner, a big grin on her face. “I do!”

The trio turned to look at her with a confused gaze. “Uh, is there any reason _why_ that is?” Amber asked.

Strixfire shrugged, grinning at Phosphoron. “It’s a long story. It involves, uhm, _Oliver_ , polar bears, a forest, and extra flint and steel. Long story short, Oliver taught me to have flint and steel on me at all times.”

“Interesting.” Berry giggled, and Strix turned towards the obsidian portal, inhaling softly.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” The mythical being laughed, and ignited the obsidian.

A flash of purple light flared through the room, pushing all four of them back with its force. Strix winced as she crashed in to the desk behind her, Berry tumbling over, followed by Amber gripping on to Phos for support.

When they all regained their balance, they turned to stare at the purple light, awe in their eyes as the portal swirled and flared, humming softly.

Phosphoron steppes in front of Strix, looking back at Amber, Soop, Strix, and Berry.

“You ready?” Phosphoron asked.

“Let’s go!” Strix cheered, while Soop barked in confirmation.

Berry nodded uncertainly, a smile still on her face.

Amber looked towards Phosphoron, a certain grin on her face.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”


	10. Into the Nether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter of book one

The next few days with Rahab were very enjoyable. Instead of constantly teasing and annoying each other, it seemed like they were starting off on the right foot this time.

  
  
Their conversation at the meadow was enjoyable, bringing them to more of an acquaintance level rather than an enemy level. Oliver had learned to like his company, as the void in his heart filled with every conversation they shared.

One thing that Oliver still despised was waking up in random places. He didn’t even know how far he was from home, or if he would ever get back to his  
home. 

Guilt crept in to his heart and built itself a home as he thought of Soop, Phosphoron, and Strixfire. He missed them, but how would they react to seeing a man who is presumed to be _dead?_

  
Black smoke raved up his arm in a corkscrew pattern, a small head appearing at the end of the hand. The six glowing eyes just stared at him, and even though Oliver tried to avoid his gaze, he couldn’t shake the queasy and uneasy feeling he got from that stare.

  
“Can you stop doing that, please?” He asked, a slight bit of annoyance in his tone as he sliced through the thick foliage with his sword, moving through the jungle with ease.

  
**Doing what?**

  
“Just.. staring at me. It’s _weird_ ,” he mumbled the last bit, but Rahab had already heard it. The black smoke disappeared from his arm, instead coming up to rest on his shoulder. Oliver could tell when the creature was bored; he always shifted from arm to arm, or shoulder to shoulder.

  
However, Rahab could sense the guilt that Oliver was feeling. He was connected to the mortal, and he could feel every emotion and thought that went through his body.

  
The uncomfortable and aching feeling of longing pulsed through Rahab’s senses, and he let out a long sigh.

  
**You miss your friends, do you not?**

  
The man gave an unreassuring shrug, encouraging Rahab to push on when he didn’t say anything. If there was one thing that Oliver knew, Rahab didn’t take silence or no as an answer.

  
**Oliver, answer me. You miss them, correct?**

  
“Maybe I do miss them!” He snapped, and the outburst didn’t discourage the creature. Rahab waited patiently for the mortal to continue. “ _Maybe_ I wish that I never went on that dumb walk. _Maybe_ I wish that I had just decided to stay inside that home and read that dumb book, _maybe_ I wish that I had said my goodbyes to Strix and Phos first, _maybe_ I wish that I never met you!”

  
Rahab was silent for a few moments, and Oliver felt the fire to his words wither in to despair.

  
**Without me, you would be dead, host. I hope you know that I am your last chance, your second life. Without me, you would never leave that casket of which I saved you.**

  
“Out of _all_ of the _stupid_ decisions you could make, saving me takes the cake,” he hissed, pointing his sword at the creature on his shoulder.

  
**By your behaviour here, it seems that you may be right.** The creature snapped, and Oliver lowered his sword.

  
A pang of loneliness buried itself in to his soul when the creature disappeared from his shoulder, and the next swings of his sword were rough and angry, carrying the stress and fury from the exchange as he cried out to the sky, his voice raw and gravelly.

  
_Oliver wasn’t an angry person before, but things tend to change when you die._

  
By the end of his rage, the anger subsided in to despair, pain, sadness. He was terrified, alone. Without the creature’s voice to fill the silence, his thoughts came running in, like a storm with its crashing waves, and his mind was a wooden raft in the sea.

  
The man slumped against a jungle wood tree, dropping his sword next to him as he pulled his knees to his chest and laid his face over the top of them.

  
_Why did everything have to hurt so badly? Why was he so angry? Why did he have to be alone?_

  
Oliver wished that Phos and Strix were here. They were better people than him, they always knew what to do. They always had a plan. Always had a way out.

  
And what was Oliver? He was someone running from his past, always on the run. Heck, he was even running right now. Running from his home, running from Soop, Strix, Phos, Milo, Berry. He ran from everyone, he died, and they would hate him when they saw what he was.

  
They would be so disappointed in him. Oliver just hoped that someone was feeding Milo and keeping him company while he was gone.

  
Oliver didn’t know how long he was sitting by that tree. Hours, probably. By the time he stood up, the sun was going down, and he knew that he had to seek shelter or start a fire.

  
He looked at what he had to work with, spotting a structure in the distance. Oliver grabbed the handle of his sword and began the short trip to the building, slicing the plants in his path and climbing the hills.

  
There was a jungle temple at the top of the mountain, broken and mossy with long vines hanging down from various parts of it. Oliver sucked in a breath, deciding that this was his best bet if he wanted to survive the night out here, alone.

  
Phantoms screamed in the distance, and Oliver’s chest tightened. Okay, yep, he definitely had a fear of phantoms now. 

  
_A flash of the past slammed in to him, the feeling of the ground slipping from under his feet, and his stomach dropped as he fell over the edge, weightless-_

  
He didn’t want to dwell on the past anymore, so he lit a torch, the comforting glow of the fire lighting the surrounding area. Oliver always carried flint and steel on him.

  
It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a jungle temple before, of course he had! They were everywhere. However, they had always interested him. _Who built it? What were they originally used for?_

  
They were lined with traps, but he knew where they were. The design was always the same.

  
“Better get some logs for the fire,” he murmured to himself, placing a torch and leaving the temple for a moment to chop down some logs.

  
The night was quiet, too quiet. Oliver knew that the jungles weren’t very populated, that was why he loved them so much. Not too much would be there to disturb him tonight.

  
The all-too familiar whistle of an arrow rang out as he collected the last piece of wood, a gasp escaping him as he froze up, but before he could do anything, a haze of black smoke appeared in front of him, except it solidified in to the creature’s form. With a thump, the arrow hit Rahab’s skin.

  
The creature barely made a noise.

  
A guttural growl left the creature’s throat as he tore apart the skeleton like a wild animal, the claws slashing the bones to dust. Oliver’s eyes widened.

  
**Come.**

  
Oliver took a moment to process what happened, before silently obeying. They made their way back to the jungle temple, as he placed the wood down, circling it with stones. With a few sparks, they eventually ignited in to flames.

  
Rahab hadn’t said a word ever since he had saved him (yet again), sitting down on the opposite side of the campfire. It reminded Oliver of when they first met, not long ago. The arrow stuck out like a sore thumb, but Rahab didn’t seem to mind it.

  
Oliver did.

  
“Come on, let me..” he trailed off, standing up and opening his satchel. There were a few bandages inside, as well as something golden, a few bottles of water, and rubbing alcohol. The creature turned his head to look at him, peering in to the bag for a moment, before looking back down to Oliver.

  
**What are you doing?**

  
“Helping,” he said simply, taking out the bandages and rubbing alcohol. Oliver turned to look at the confused creature, a small smile on his face. “You act like no one’s helped you out before.”

  
**Nobody has. You are the first.**

  
“Lay back,” The man ordered, and despite Rahab’s hesitance, he did what he was told. The man looked at the arrow lodged in to his chest, mumbling something in French under his breath. “That looks like it hurts.”

  
**I don’t feel pain like you do. If you feel pain, I feel pain. But if I am hurt, you will not feel it.**

  
“That doesn’t sound very fair,” he commented, a small laugh erupting from the creature. “Okay, okay! Stay still. I don’t want to mess up and accidentally cut you.”

  
A low hum echoed from the creature’s throat, as the man hummed his own tune to fill the silence of the jungle temple. He rested his other hand gently on the creature’s chest, thinking nothing of it as he removed the arrow from his body as carefully as he could.

  
“Okay, I’m going to put some rubbing alcohol on. This _might_ hurt a bit.”

  
**I told you, I do not feel pain unless you feel pain. Mortals.**

  
Oliver giggled at the last word, pressing some of the rubbing alcohol on to the wound and cleaning it. After that, he applied a bandage on to the wound, patching it up.

  
**Thank you.**

  
“You know, you didn’t have to take that hit for me. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself,” he said in a joking tone. Rahab moves back up, facing Oliver with a serious expression on his face, intensity in his glowing white eyes.

  
**I did have to take that hit.**

  
“Why?” He inquired.

  
**You would’ve been hurt, as would I. Your fragile mortal body is very easy to break. Be more careful.**

  
Oliver snorted, sitting next to the creature as he stared at the lapping flames, the embers that flicked off of them, fluttering down to a cold demise as they hit the stone.

  
Silence cascaded through the temple, but he didn’t mind much this time. He wasn’t alone, and he knew that he wasn’t alone.

  
Still, guilt from the past argument flared through his body.

  
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he started off awkwardly, looking guiltily up at the other. “I was just so _angry_ and upset at the world. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. It was wrong of me, and I understand that now. I’m sorry.”

  
The creature sighed. **I am sorry too. I feel every emotion that you feel, and your anger affected my own. I.. also was a little angry too, I believe.**

  
Oliver gave a hollow laugh, humourless. “I guess we’re both a little bit fucked up, huh?”

  
**You are correct.**

  
“Friends?” He stood up, putting his hand out to shake. Rahab stood up too, looking down at the mortal.

  
**Friends.**

  
•

  
Oliver slept fairly soundly that night, besides a few nightmares that he had to go through. Rahab had sent calming waves through their connection, causing the nightmares to fade in to relaxing dreams.

  
The creature shook the other awake, his wings rustling against Oliver’s head. When it didn’t work at first, he had to whack him over the head.

  
“ _Wha-?_ ” The man slurred, eyes heavy and tiredness in his features. Oliver’s hair was messy in the morning, and Rahab took a long stare at him, before picking the man up with ease.

  
“What are you doing?” He murmured, his voice still laced with exhaustion.

  
**Sleep. We now take walking shifts. You carried me to this place yesterday, now I will return the favour.**

  
Oliver nodded, barely hearing what the creature said, before falling back in to a peaceful sleep.

  
Seeing as Rahab had wings and the mortal didn’t, the creature wondered if he should just take the walking shift all the time. He was faster, and he could fly.

  
The creature rustled his wings for a moment, before stretching them out and taking to the skies. Wind flushed in front of him as he rushed towards his destination. _The nether portal._

  
A few hours later, he spotted a red wreckage in the distance, the shiny golden block catching his attention first. The creature looked for a good spot to settle, before he dove down, landing on to the exact spot with precision that would put the best archer to shame.

  
**Wake up, Oliver.**

  
He rocked the man awake, lime green eyes meeting glowing white ones. Oliver was set on to the ground, wobbling slightly on his legs.

  
“Where.. _are_ we?” He asked, looking at the structure with awe. It was new, different. Strange.

  
**This is the Nether portal. It is what we have been travelling to.**

  
“A _portal?_ ” Confusion was evident in his tone. “Why?”

  
**It is a new adventure. This place will bring you everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. It will even reunite you with your friends.**

  
At the thought of being reunited with his friends, excitement went through his entire body. “Really? How do we go through it?”

  
Rahab chuckled, looking at the portal. There were pieces of crying obsidian on the portal, but the creature knew how to fix it. He came up to the obsidian, pressing a claw on to it and sealing the pieces.

  
**Now, take your flint and steel. Light the portal.**

  
Oliver looked at the creature with uncertainty in his eyes, but did what he was told anyways. With a flash of fire, the portal was lit. Light bursted from it, knocking him backwards, but luckily, Rahab was there to catch him.

  
Purple light met his vision, and the hum of the portal met his ears. He stared at in in awe.

  
**Come on. There is no time to waste.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woahhhhh this was one heckuva ride, huh?
> 
> again, this series is not over. however, this book is.
> 
> thank you to the duckified server for encouraging me to keep writing! at times, it was hard to have inspiration. however, i am excited to show you guys what happens in the future.
> 
> thank you for reading. stay cool gamers <3


End file.
